Anything Can Change
by LastPrelude
Summary: In a bleak and desolate future, she fought by her father's words.
1. Hope

**Anything Can Change**

* * *

**. **

**I. Hope **

"I believe the woman you want- is _me!_" The azure-haired woman swung her blade with all her might, and a painful scream resonated in the grand hallway as Falchion's steel tore apart Risen flesh mercilessly. As the limbless parts of the corpse rolled around on the floor before fading away into black smoke, Lucina turned to her fellow soldiers and citizens of Ylisse.

"We can't let these things win. Now grab a sword, and fight!"

A small battle cry could be heard in response to Lucina's rally as as several Ylissean soldiers raised their blades and fought against the swarm of Risen soldiers. The dark warriors had swarmed the royal castle and were ravaging buildings in the courtyard and civilian villages alike. Flames grew on fallen furniture and the walls of the castle were crumbling. A lone statue of the dragon goddess, Naga, stood motionless in the middle of the room, covered in fierce embers. Lucina swung her sword continuously, fending off Risen soldiers left and right as the great battle continued. In between her parries and strikes she saw her fellow companions- Severa, Inigo, Owain, Kjelle, and others trying their hardest as well to tip the scales in their favor.

"Do not give up! We must not lose hope!" Lucina cried again, slicing a Risen head clean off its body. "Rally-"

She was cut off by a sudden rumbling of the castle, which almost knocked her off balance. Part of the castle wall burst, spreading debris and smoke everywhere, obscuring everyone's vision. Lucina felt the floor cave in as the stones beneath her feet slipped, and she nimbly jumped at the last moment before the gaping hole swallowed her. As the smoke cleared, she saw the midnight black sky, and an ominous figure looming over the castle.

_"So ends the human race," _a menacing voice said. Lucina held Falchion up close to, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Fear gripped her heart, and dark grey smoke began swirling around her. She turned around cautiously, looking left and right.

_"The future is built upon the past..." _the voice continued speaking. _"But your kind shall never see it!" _

Lucina continued looking around cautiously, before her eyes widened and she gasped. Three gigantic, blood red eyes shone through the darkness, staring directly at her. The eyes of Grima, the fell dragon...

_"Your mother and father... are dead, tiny one," _it said, letting out a evil, maniacal laugh afterward. The eyes reared back as the dark smoke cleared, revealing the gargantuan wings and body of the dragon as it hovered over the castle. Grima's head drew back and roared, baring the rows of its jagged, menacing teeth and its wicked curved horns.

_"And now it is your turn... to die!"_ With a roar, the head lashed at Lucina. Facing the dragon's teeth, Lucina held her sword up in defiance, ready to face whatever it could throw at her. She knew facing the ancient dragon by herself would be fruitless, but she knew she could not give in. Her set her gaze on her father's blade one last time. Now, they would fall together.

_Mother... Father... I'm sorry..._

"Aaaaaaaaaaagh!" Lucina roared loudly as she held her blade up against the incoming foe. Her long her flew in the gust of air exhaled by the demon. The steel of her blade collided with the dragon's jaw, and Lucina felt an overwhelming amount of force fight against her. She kept her grip steady on Falchion, but with each passing second she was losing composure and her the dragon's strength was slowly sapping her own. Finally, she was about to loosen her grip and let it all go when a radiant green light burst forth from Falchion's hilt and engulfed the entire blade.

"What in the-" Lucina gasped. The royal blade continued to grow ever brighter, and the light started to repel Grima's attack. The fell dragon's head lurched backward, letting out an agonizing roar as it shook its head back and forth in pain.

**"Let me aid you, young one,"** a serene voice came from above the castle. Lucina stared up at the sky to see a green aura in the sea of black. She stepped backward in surprise, putting Falchion at her side. A woman's figure could faintly be seen. "It must be... the divine goddess, Naga..." she whispered to herself.

Grima growled furiously as it flapped its wings. _"I have put you down, yet you still insist to be a thorn in my side. No matter, you are nothing in shadow of my strength!" _

**"It is true."** Lucina could hear Naga's voice resonate in her own head.** "The return of Grima has greatly diminished my power. Yet... as long as** **humankind lives, it will fight back. Young exalt, you possess the power to change many a fate. In this timeline, I grow weak... however, in another future, anything can change." **

_Anything can change._

Those were the words her father had told her when she was young. That no matter how bleak the circumstances looked, no matter what preordained "destiny" awaited a person, he or she could fight to pave their own path. Words she took to heart.

**"I shall buy you some time. Use the Outrealm Gate I have opened... you and your friends will return to a time before the rise of Grima, and the fall of the exalt. There, you will meet familiar faces. Aid them, and they shall aid you..."  
**

In the distance, a lustrous portal opened up far away from the castle. The figure of Naga in the sky shone brightly, sending out rays of light in all directions. Lucina could hear the painful cries of Grima as the fell dragon retreated from the onslaught of light. With newly-found courage, the female lord sheathed her blade and sprinted toward her comrades.

"All of you!" They turned to her, bringing the last of the Rise soldiers to their knees. "Follow me!" Lucina continued, waving her hand to signal. "There is still a way we can change this bleak future!"

Her companions rushed to her side as she explained the situation, pointing toward the white portal in the distance. "We must act now. Grima could be in pursuit any minute now. Hurry!"

The ensemble rushed toward the portal, past the burning remnants of the forest and dodging the battlefield of flying arrows and cannonballs. The occasional Risen soldier stood in their way, but they were easily disposed of by the combined power of the cast. A surge of hope rose in the hearts of everyone as they continued their sprint to the gate.

"My sword hand twitches!"

"This is your last dance!"

"Say goodnight!"

The gate in the distance grew ever closer with each passing moment. Keeping her eyes focused on her goal, Lucina mustered every ounce of energy to make it there in time. Behind her, she could hear Grima's roar once more, which meant time was running out.

"Lucina, wait!"

The young woman whipped around to see a similar aged man riding on a black Wyvern, rushing to her side. His hair was slicked back and spiked, and the most striking feature was a black mask obscuring his eyes. He had an axe strapped to his belt.

"Gerome... Minerva... what is it?"

The man and his wyvern screeched to a halt, before he stepped off quickly and reached into his pocket, pulling out a blue masquerade-like mask and handing it over to Lucina. She looked confused.

"If we are truly to return to an alternate past, it would be wise to keep our identities a secret. We do not wish to interfere with the flow of time more than we are already going to. Use this to keep your true self a secret."

Lucina nodded. "Thank you, Gerome."

As she held the butterfly-esque mask in her palm, she already formed an idea in her mind. Tying up her dark azure hair, she put the mask on her eyes, and turned to Gerome for his opinion.

"Radiant. Much like the heroic king of old. It suits you well," Gerome said as he gave a weak smile, something rare for a man stoic as he. The warm flames danced around them, shedding a soft light on both their faces as they stood with each other.

"Thank you once again, Gerome," Lucina smiled back. She petted his wyvern. "You too, Minerva."

Their conversation was cut short by a rumbling, followed by another ferocious roar.

"We must be quick," Gerome said, and Lucina nodded in agreement. As Gerome mounted Minerva once more and set into flight, Lucina, now donned in disguise, ran the final distance to the gate.

_Mother... Father... I'm coming. Just wait..._

**"Go, young one. As long as you still stand and fight, hope will never die."**

"Anything can change,"she whispered to herself. She passed her grim surroundings- the dark smoke, burning trees, fallen citizens... all this could be averted. The dark future is not what would await them. No, she would change that. Destiny had nothing to take from her. The light from the gate grew immensely brighter as Lucina neared it. With her cape fluttering behind her, and her determination set, Lucina ran through it.

* * *

**.**

"Who are you?"

She stood stoic, her identity veiled by her mask and sword sheathed by her side.

"You may call me Marth."

"After the heroic king of old? Well, you certainly fight like a hero..." She turned away as Chrom conversed with his fellow shepherds, into the dark veil of the night forest, before gritting her teeth. How badly she had wanted to just tear apart her mask and embrace her father right then and there, so happy at the fact he was _alive _here. She wanted to be in his arms, be a little a child again, crying in his arms as his firm arms calmed her. How badly she wanted to stay as a family, experience those warm bonds once more...

But she had a mission. A single tear fell from her mask down her cheek. She would sacrifice everything to ensure that this future would not be the one to fall in despair. She would change it. If there was one thing that was absolutely certain, it was that anything can change. She gripped her father's blade tightly, walking off into the forest. She had one goal.

She would challenge her fate.


	2. Fate

**Anything Can Change**

* * *

**.**

**II. Fate**

"Eye on your opponent's blade! Watch where they swing!"

A young Lucina's hair flew wildly as she twirled around, keeping a tight grip on her rapier as it sliced the air around her. The steel of her sword clashed into another's- one more elegant and royal, the blade that was Falchion. The blades met with a metallic screech and Lucina jumped backward, putting distance between her and her father, Chrom, whom she met with a fierce gaze. She was panting, and sweat dripped off her brow in the heat of the summer evening.

"Aaagh!" Lucina yelled and sprinted forward, holding her blade close to her face as she jumped and pounced on Chrom. The latter retaliated by bringing up his sword and blocking the blow, parrying Lucina's strike and sending her stumbling to the side. She quickly regained composure, lashing at her father again with her blade. He managed to counter once again, and the duo's blades were locked against each other.

"Steady!" Chrom said as he pushed against Lucina's blade. She grunted, struggling against the superior strength of her father. Once again, she jumped backwards with a steely gaze. With a look of determination, she readied her blade by giving it a couple of flips in the air and raising it into the air. She then leaped into the air, somersaulting in a forward roll, bringing her rapier upward... and proceeded to fall flat on her stomach on the ground, wincing, her blade falling lazily after her.

"Lucina!" Her father rushed toward her side and knelt beside her. "Are you alright?"

"Ugh..." she groaned, pushing herself up with her palms with her father's assistance, small tears in her eyes. "It's no use... I'm never going to get it..."

"Don't say that," Chrom assured her. "You just need practice. That's what these sparring lessons are for."

"But I _have_ practiced for awhile, Father. It seems as if there's no hope for me," Lucina said, picking her fallen blade from the ground, casting her gaze downward.

"Lucina..." Chrom said, placing his shoulders firmly on his daughter's shoulders. She looked up into his eyes. "Listen to me. You've just turned fifteen years old. You're still young, and there's plenty of time to learn. Even if you can't do it now, with enough time you can. Anything can change. Now, let's get up. It's time to return to the castle." He held out a hand.

Lucina nodded and wiped the dirt off her cheek, taking her father's hand and getting up slowly. The fierce orange sun was setting, spreading honey-golden rays all over the kingdom of Ylisse. The pair went off to the castle on horseback, Chrom riding up front and Lucina in the back. The young girl was staring at the beautiful sunset in the distance.

_Anything can change. _

She looked down at her open palm, and slowly began to draw determination from the depths of her heart. She formed a tight fist with her palm, and with newly-found strength gazed at the sunset once more, a look of serenity and courage on her face.

* * *

**.**

"Ha!" Basilio let out a hearty laugh, thumping his chest and guffawing. After his bout of laughter, he saw that the mysterious swordsman was still standing there, not saying a word.

"You still wish to challenge my champions? Well, you're certainly a feisty and ambitious young fellow. Could use someone with your ambition in our ranks," the large man continued. "After you've proven your skill, of course."

The masked man stood silent for a moment before replying. "Send me the best warrior you have."

Basilio's playful smile disappeared, replaced with a disappointing frown. He strode forward confidently to the man, looming over his small figure.

"Now, I said you've got ambition. But there's a fine line between confidence and downright cockiness," he said. "Care to repeat your last statement, nameless one?"

"I do not wish to stand around discussing things already discussed. Time is of the essence, I do not intend to squander what little of it is left," the masked man said, grabbing the hilt of his blade, not intimidated by the looming Basilio's large stature. "I intend to challenge your strongest champion, right here and now."

Basilio stared down at the man, who stared back at him through his butterfly-like blue mask. Neither backed off from the other, and the two stared at each other for a while, with all of Basilio's other men watching them intently. The tense air hung heavily in the soldiers' quarters. Finally, Basilio turned around and let out an exasperated grunt.

"Very well. It seems you will be taught a lesson through pain, that arrogance is man's greatest downfall," the khan said. He then bellowed deeply. _"Lon'qu!" _

Only a few seconds passed before a slim yet muscular man entered the soldiers' quarters, with jagged brown hair and a sword strapped to his side. His gaze fell upon Basilio and the mysterious masked man, but he remained silent. Basilio gestured toward the guest.

"This lil' man here wants to fight you personally. Now, he was real persistent about it, so go show him a thing or two about the Ferox way. Make it quick and we can all enjoy a good show. To the arena, both of you."

Lon'qu stared at the masked man, and he noticed and stared back. Lon'qu flinched involuntarily. Something about him seemed... off. He couldn't quite pinpoint the exact detail, but he grew uneasier by the second. He didn't have time to say anything about it as he was led toward the arena with the masked man following him. The two were then placed in the middle of the arena, facing each other with blades at the ready, all of Basilio's men watching from the sideline. The khan himself was at the front, crossing his arms and watching intently. A single _ding _was heard, signifying the beginning of the fight.

At first, the two swordsmen stared each other, blades drawn. Lon'qu's eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on his opponent, whose emotions and eyes were obscured by that blue mask. The rest of his face betrayed no emotion. Lon'qu, seeing that his opponent was attacking, decided to make the first strike. He rushed forward, swinging his blade toward his opponent's face. His blade was met with a regal-looking saber, and his opponent struck back like a serpent, lashing his blade at Lon'qu's face. Lon'qu's eyes grew wide as he narrowly dodged the sword from ripping his face to shreds. He placed some distance between him and his foe.

"Tougher than one appears..." Lon'qu murmured to himself, holding his blade tightly as the masked man ran toward him again, attempting to continue his onslaught. Lon'qu watched as the man jumped up and swung down. In response, the champion held his blade up horizontally, blocking the attack. The masked man swiftly struck again, this time at Lon'qu's feet. Lon'qu jumped, dodging the attack, and struck back with his own sword, which was parried once more.

"Good fight," Basilio muttered to himself, nodding in approval. He kept a close eye on both of the swordsmen. The arrogant challenger was more proficient with the blade than he'd initially thought. He was giving Lon'qu, Basilio's champion for years, a hard time. The khan could use someone like him...

Meanwhile, the challenger's sword blows were getting faster, and each assault came faster than the last, with the gleaming blade lashing from a different directions each time. Lon'qu didn't have time to retaliate or strike back; all his efforts were going into blocking one blow after the next. Finally, with a shout of determination, the masked man held his hilt with both hands and swung forcefully. Lon'qu barely had time to block the attack, but when the blades struck, Lon'qu's sword flew out of his hands, arcing in the air and landing straight down on the ground behind him. The masked challenger pointed the blade at his chest in victory before sheathing it. He turned to Basilio in the sidelines. The khan was clapping slowly and deliberately.

"Very nice show," Basilio said. "I'll be damned if you ain't the best swordsman this side of Ferox. Lon'qu, my boy, you need to shape up! Could be more fighters in the future." Lon'qu remained silent as he walked up to pick his fallen blade and sheathe it. Basilio turned to the masked man.

"My men and I would be honored if you would join our ranks. The champion's tournament for the khan is coming up fairly soon, and I need all the best men I can get my hands on."

The masked man nodded. "I would like to join your ranks. I have heard that the other khan will receive some new champions as well, some of them hailing from royal blood. "

Basilio made a fist. "Recruiting foreign royalty? That Flavia... well, there's no rules against that. We'll just see how this goes!"

Lon'qu wandered back to the two and faced the masked man. He held out a hand.

"Though you have defeated me, you have earned my respect as a superior swordsman. I look forward to working with you..."

"You may call me Marth," the man said, shaking his hand firmly. "May our battles together be victorious."

* * *

**. **

"Where did you get that?"

Two identical Falchion's glinted in the arena battlefield, with each of their points directed toward the other. Marth remained silent, letting the blades do their talking.

"There's no way..."

The two azure-haired swordsmen lunged at each other, each blocking each other's strikes gracefully and with unparalleled skill. The Falchions collided with each other again and again. Chrom jumped up, spinning forward in a somersault rapidly before letting gravity taking over and swinging down his blade with tremendous force, keen to attack.

_Eyes on your opponent..._

Marth expertly blocked the attack, sending Chrom back to the ground and the two engaged in a series of sword strikes, with sparks flashing out at each collision of the two Falchions. The two azure-haired swordsmen fought with unparalleled skills. Chrom, agile as always, darted in and out of attacks before speaking.

_Watch where they swing..._

"Tell me..." Chrom said, blocking another strike, "...who taught you to fight like that?"

_Steady._

Marth jumped backwards to distance himself, then jumped high in the air, readying his blade. He nimbly somersaulted forward in the air, rolling rapidly multiple times before unleashing his own blade at the Ylissean prince. In the midst of the attack, he responded.

"My father!"

The two backed off each other, before Chrom lunged forward with surprising speed, swinging his blade and stopping inches before Marth's neck, who was still recovering from the fall of the initial attack. Marth dropped his blade in surrender, knowing defeat had come. Chrom sighed, then sheathed his blade, and Marth did the same. The Shephards had won the tournament for Flavia.

"Well, whoever he is, he must be a great warrior to have taught you to fight that way," Chrom said to his fallen opponent.

Marth brushed his clothes, before walking back out of the spotlight to Basilio's quarters. As he walked away, he faced Chrom over his shoulder and nodded.

"The greatest."


End file.
